Page 8 of Falling for Grace

The appetisers are delivered shortly after, we eat, we drink, and we laugh.

People come and go from the table, but Danny and I stay close to Ted, keeping him well supplied with beer and food. Sue’s sister Sarah, and Mum come and join us, and I find myself searching for Brandon in the sea of faces.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Danny catches my eye and raises an eyebrow.

“He’s obviously sulking, and he should be here,” I say as an explanation.

“Of course he’s sulking,” Danny says, sliding into the chair I’ve just vacated. I excuse myself from the table, wobbling slightly as I weave between the chairs like I’m on a slalom course. The main party has died down and I walk through the smaller groups of people, stopping and saying hello briefly before finally making it into the kitchen.

I look for his tall frame among the few bodies that have found their way inside, but I can’t see him.

“Have you seen Brandon?” I ask Sue, who is back in front of the sink.

“I think he’s upstairs, dear, he was on the phone to his agent. Agent. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” She giggles and turns her attention back to her sponge.

“Leave the washing up, Sue, go and be with Ted.” I lean over and turn the tap off, grabbing the washing up liquid from the windowsill.

“I need that, Grace,” I hear her shouting after me, but I’m already walking up the stairs with it.

I take in all the family photos that pepper the wall, including the odd one of me. The Holders have embraced me into their hearts as much as I have them. Just like me and my mum, they live in a three-bedroom semi-detached house, which hasn’t changed much over the years. Brandon’s room is at the back. I can hear his voice coming from behind the closed door.

I take a deep breath and walk into the room, and I’m blasted with memories. Throw Brandon into the environment and it’s like I’m a teenager again.

Everything is that familiar.

We’re just missing songs of our favourite artists playing, the soundtrack of our childhood.

He looks up from his position on the bed, and I turn and close the door behind me. His phone is pressed to his ear, and he watches me. His green eyes burn through my clothes, lazily tracking up and down my body, undressing me.

“Yeah, I’ll be back Wednesday, so set it up.”

I walk to the chest of drawers, avoiding the bed. Instead, I look at the photos peppering the top of the chest of drawers. One grabs my attention. I pick it up to take a closer look, but he’s beside me in an instant, taking it out of my hands and putting it back.

“Okay, yeah, no problem. Yeah, text me the details. Okay, thanks, Mike. See you Wednesday.”

He sighs and puts the phone in his back pocket and sits back down on the bed.

“Are you going to act like a badger’s up your ass all night or are going to take some man-up princess pills and come enjoy your dad’s birthday?” Okay, so I had been going to try and coax him down, but turns out a bottle of wine later and Gracie has gotten some balls.

“Depends, Grace.” He studies me intently. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Well, Brandon, I’m glad you asked.” I walk over to the bed and flop down next to him. “So once a year, this thing called a birthday happens and what we do is celebrate these birthdays, and it just so happens that today is your Da–”

“Okay, enough with this avoidance bullshit. Tell me what’s going on.”

I lie back on the bed and close my eyes, suddenly tired of this constant back and forth.

“Are you really that stupid?” I finally say, exasperation creeping into my tone. “How long have you known me? And you are completely oblivious to what could be wrong?”

“This is how I see it.” He folds his arms over his chest, and I can’t help but notice that his muscles look even larger underneath the blue cotton top. “We were here in this very room, we had some—I’m not gonna sugarcoat it—some pretty amazing sex, and when I wake up, you're gone. You’re not home, you’re nowhere, you don’t answer your phone, you miss all our weekly calls, you don’t return my messages. Our Sundays. Grace, you just disappeared.”

I take a breath and sit up.

“How many years have we been doing this, Brandon?”

“What?” He looks confused, and I want to hit him. I sigh and stand up. He runs his hand through his hair and my eyes dart to the portion of bare skin revealed as his top rides up, his tanned taut stomach muscles rippling. “I don’t get what you’re talking about?”

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